


Sanguinaccio

by MauveTarte



Series: Sangue [1]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Cannibalism, Emotional Manipulation, Gore, Hannibal inspired, Heed the tags!, M/M, Murder, Mutilation, Pre-Slash, Psychological Horror, Sexual Violence Mentioned, Thriller, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:17:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6770215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MauveTarte/pseuds/MauveTarte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yoongi takes it upon himself to demonstrate how humans limit their palates.</p><p> Or, a Hannibal Inspired!AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanguinaccio

 

 

 

 

 

Yoongi takes his time. They say he’s obsessively meticulous, but he’s really not. His method just doesn’t allow much room for error or sloppiness. Pride is another factor that Yoongi admits to having. He does very much take pride in his work. 

The girl on the cold metal table has tear marks stained black from her excessive makeup, which contrasts against her ashen complexion. There’s a cop on either side of Yoongi looking distastefully into her opened chest cavity. Yoongi’s expression, as to be expected from a seasoned coroner, is null of anything. Though, in fact, Yoongi feels a sense of satisfaction while looking into the girl’s chest.  
  
“So, you’re saying she was alive when the bastard…” A cop trails off while motioning his hand around awkwardly to what lies inside the girl.   
  
“To a certain degree, it's doubtful she stayed conscious the entire time. I also can’t tell if the organs were removed one by one, or at the same time in their current state,” Yoongi replies. The cops lean in just a bit closer, enough that Yoongi knows they’ll probably smell the rosemary he seasoned the liver with.   
  
“This is the third one too,” the second cop piped in lowly, “and we still don’t have much to go on.”  
  
“Well, according to how clean the original dissection marks are on all the victims, the perpetrator probably has at least some medical background,” because Yoongi has to give the poor pigs something.   
  
“So, then we have a possible a cannibalistic doctor on the loose, who also likes fine dining if the caviar was anything to go by,”  
  
Yes, Yoongi thinks he got too hasty with that one; caviar’s too rare and retraceable.  
  
“Anything else you could find, Mr. Min?”  
  
Besides one strand of hair that the blind and stupid crime scene investigators missed, no, so Yoongi shakes his head sternly. The cops thank him for his hard work and finally leave Yoongi alone in his morgue.   
  
“There, there,” Yoongi whispers down to the girl, “everything’s almost over now,”

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Psych-evals are a necessary evil for every coroner, especially those under federal scrutiny. Luckily for Yoongi, there was Namjoon.

They’ve come to an agreement: Namjoon will sign Yoongi’s evals and Yoongi will keep quiet about Namjoon’s hobby of killing people for money. The story was that Yoongi once walked across an alley where Namjoon was busy with his target. They met eyes for a split second before Yoongi waved a hand nonchalantly in an unusual greeting and walked away. Yoongi autopsied the body the next day, silently admiring the single stab wound that lead to a sure but drawn out death. A few weeks later and they meet again, but as doctor and patient. So, they just chat about their shared interests during their sessions and off Yoongi goes with his biannual slip that says he’s still fit for work. 

This time, there’s a boy waiting outside Namjoon’s office when Yoongi is about to leave. His hair is a bright and obnoxious orange that no one could miss, but the boy has his body slumped in a self-conscious manner. His thumbs are tangled together and his head was bowed down until it tilts up to take Yoongi in. Yoongi sees a pretty face with even prettier lips and curved eyes. But, Yoongi doesn’t get to look long before the boy’s face is pointed towards his feet again.   
  
Namjoon, who's still waiting behind his office door, opens it a tad bit more while giving Yoongi a look. He then turns his attention to the boy, “Jimin, feel free to come in now,”  
  
The boy takes in a sharp breath before nodding and standing up from his seat. Namjoon clasps a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder and shoves him to the side so Jimin can slip by both of them easily.   
  
Namjoon gives Yoongi one more pointed look before following after Jimin and shutting the door behind him.   
  
Well, if that wasn’t an invitation, Yoongi didn’t know what was. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Namjoon has fantastic security for his office, like any part-time hitman should. But, great minds think alike and Yoongi believes he’s the greater mastermind of the two. After all, he was the one examining dead, silent bodies rather than listening to alive, whining ones.   
  
There’s a file cabinet key on Namjoon’s desk, probably because he knew Yoongi wouldn't stop short of destroying the filing cabinet to get the information he wanted. A few minutes later and Yoongi finds a file with _Park, Jimin_ labelled on its tab. What lies inside is very, very interesting.  
  
“Does he really think his hair will help?” Yoongi drawls before taking a sip of his tea.   
  
Namjoon wasn’t very impressed by Yoongi requesting an appointment as soon as possible, and even much less impressed when his assumptions were true about the reasoning behind it.   
  
“It doesn’t suit his personality, and he knows this, so he came up with the idea that the man won’t look twice in his direction,”  
  
Idiot, Yoongi thought, nobody would ignore a head of hair that fluorescent.   
  
“So, what exactly is his ex known for?”  
  
Namjoon sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “you know I don’t like you getting involved in my patients, right?”  
  
“Then refer him to someone else; what does his ex do?” Yoongi snapped back. Namjoon's and his eyes meet again, and it’s nearly lethal, but Namjoon eventually decides it's not worthwhile.   
  
“Has a thing for mutilating male prostitutes,” Namjoon supplied within a heavy sigh, “he leaves notes saying he’s cleansing the world of sin,”  
  
_Sin._ Who is he to decide what's sinful? How disgusting.   
  
“At large?”

“Yes.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yoongi can’t put much effort into finding Jimin’s ex because he’s busy with his own agenda and he wants to stick to it.   
  
Jang Jaekyung is a slight, pretty girl who likes to hang around the back of an upscale downtown bar between the hours of 1am and 2am on Wednesdays. The role of wing woman changes daily between her group of friends for the rich patrons of the establishment. However, Jaekyung has routinely been said wing woman on Wednesdays for the past three weeks.  This also means she’s alone right before the bar closes.   
  
Yoongi knocks her out with a syringe filled with a special concoction that’s undetectable by the federal forensic analysts (he checked). Despite his constantly changing M.O in victims, he doesn’t actually enjoy the squirms or cries of any of them, it was never about that. However, she does come through after Yoongi has strapped her to a metal table with her chest cavity open. Her screams are loud and echoing in the room, but still slightly muffled because Yoongi has already (thankfully) cut out her tongue.   
  
“Oh hush,” Yoongi chastises, “that won’t do you any good.” And then he takes out her pancreas. The girl is sobbing, which is stupid because it's quite taxing on her already dying body. But, Yoongi needs her alive a little while longer to maintain as much as freshness as possible.   
  
His favourite seasoning is oregano, but parsley is well-appreciated in his cooking as well. His favourite dish to make is blood sausage. A dying and often frowned upon dish, but Yoongi likes making it the best because reduces waste (which would explain why Jaekyung’s intestines were taken out with the upmost care). Yoongi is also excited because due to Jaekyung only favouring red wine during her wing woman nights, the resulting sausage is bound to be an interesting treat.   
  
Finally, the heart is next. He takes his time, like they say, when he does this. It’s the star of the show and is to be treated as such. Of course, it’s also the deciding moment where Jaekyung will die, but Yoongi considers the lot of them dead the moment they’re strapped to the table.  
  
Yoongi whispers his goodbye to a half conscious Jaekyung and then the heart is out. He rinses the excess blood away and works fast to stuff it with a prepared mushroom and spinach mix before tossing it into the oven to bake.   
  
Once everything is done, Yoongi portions out the food accordingly. He packs some away in his industrial fridge for later and carefully places the rest back into Jaekyung. A bit of a waste, to put it back in, but awareness is the goal.  
  
He breaks into The Garden, the same high-end bar Jaekyung frequented, at around 4:30 am the next night. He lays her nude body down on a long table that seats 6 guests and preps her appearance. He places assorted flowers in her hair, and her chest is delicately pulled back to reveal Yoongi’s hard work inside. He also leaves a large handkerchief to cover her lower region, to further draw the focus upwards. Yoongi reluctantly leaves her golden jewellery on because it matches with the décor of the bar.   
  
Only fifteen minutes later and Yoongi is driving back to his home with the sun rising in the background.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Surprisingly, the first body he gets the next day is not Jaekyung, but someone else entirely.   
  
“What a sick—" an investigator grimaces at the mess on Yoongi’s table, because that was what it was…a complete mess.   
  
Below the neck is a disaster. The nipples are missing, though evidently not removed with precision or much care. There are multiple stab wounds across the abdomen, appearing to be done by different tools and in no particular pattern. There’s evidence of serious trauma to the anus and rectum, along with the mutilation of the penis.   
  
The face though, the face is untouched and instantly reminds Yoongi of a face he’s recently become familiar with.   
  
“Well, the Angel Killer strikes again,” murmurs one of the police officers. Yoongi raises a brow at that, which catches their attention and they clear their throat, “Angel Killer, because the faces of the victim have a similar look to them, big lips, slanted eyes, puffy cheeks and etc. You know, like a cherub.”  
  
Yoongi lets out a short sigh, wondering what name he himself would eventually be bestowed with.   
  
“The killer, as you can tell, doesn’t have much method to his… work,” a complete brute really, “The victim was dead before any mutilation occurred though. The cause of death was done by strangulation, through something like a wire or thin rope held from behind the victim’s neck.” Due to the officers’ reaction, Yoongi didn’t announce anything new or surprising. It was the first time the killer found someone within Yoongi’s city, but it wasn’t the first of his victims. The mess on the table was the fifth if Yoongi overheard correctly.   
  
“They look like him,” Yoongi told Namjoon the week after his autopsy of the body. Namjoon, who was still sour over Yoongi arriving unannounced at his doorstep at 1am, sighed deeply.   
  
“Yes, and why do you care?”  
  
Yoongi crosses his legs and adjusts his body into a more comfortable position. Damned Victorian styled chaise, aesthetically pleasing on the eyes but not the ass. “It’s savage, what he does to the bodies and, quite frankly, cowardly. Shows a glimpse at a real messed up character.”  
  
“Cowardly because they strangle their victims first, or cowardly because they haven’t gotten to Jimin yet?”  
  
“Is it not both?” Yoongi retorts. Namjoon averts his gaze and keeps silent. No matter, Yoongi got out what he wanted and thus leaves Namjoon to his much desired sleep. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It’s not like Yoongi to go after another’s prey, but the story behind Jimin is pretty enticing and the pursuer isn’t very much of threat.   
  
Yoongi decides to follow Jimin around, to see what all the hype was about. It’s disappointing how mundane Jimin’s life is. Jimin has a lot of odd ends and edges, one of them being the neighbourhood dog sitter which includes walks with tangled leases and trips to dog parks. He also volunteers once a week, teaching contemporary dance to a group of young under-privileged boys, which Yoongi admits to be interesting to watch. Jimin doesn’t cook much, or very well either, which causes Yoongi to frown the most. With the way Jimin keeps in shape, an appropriate intake of nutrition is to be demanded, but no, Jimin regularly eats pasta with store-bought no-name tomato sauce. He also works in a cubicle for a call centre. Why someone would do such a job willingly, Yoongi doesn't know, but Jimin does it 9-5 Monday to Friday.  
  
Jimin treats his surroundings with caution. His eyes glance over his shoulder more often than not and he doesn’t take any short cuts. His steps are light, but his fists are clenched tightly in the pockets of his pants or jacket. Despite everything, he still helps out whenever needed and smiles while doing so.   
  
Jimin is an overall boring, but good, man. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yoongi is very much due for his next victim, especially after being so occupied with observing Jimin. He thinks about just grabbing Jimin after a dance class in the evening, but decides against it. Jimin’s eating habits leave a lot to be desired.   
  
So, Yoongi grabs a master chef at a Michelin star restaurant instead. He researches the chef’s best appreciated dishes and tweaks them to suit the ingredients he’s working with. Yoongi thinks that what he made could suit the restaurant just fine, and lays the body with pride in the centre of the dining floor. The chef is then surrounded with bread that had been baked into knots and unique shapes with rice flour sprinkled around for added ambiance.   
  
The next day, the stomach of the cop standing next to Yoongi growls loudly in the middle of Yoongi’s examination and smugness fills him. Horror may be what the cops display with their expression and words, but Yoongi knows what he made is delightfully tasty on both the eyes and tongue.   
  
Namjoon, on the other hand, frowns at the Tupperware containers Yoongi hands to him that night. He recognizes what’s in it without a doubt, and Yoongi knows Namjoon won’t eat anything Yoongi hands him, so Yoongi explains, “Give this to Jimin when you see him on Tuesday evening,” because Namjoon meets Jimin every Tuesday evening for their sessions.   
  
“And what would you like me to say?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow.  
  
“That someone made it for you, and you didn’t want it to go to waste,” Because Yoongi has, of course, already thought through the scenario. Namjoon’s anger is skimming on the surface of his face, but it disappears as quickly as it appears. Yoongi knows Namjoon doesn’t want to hand Jimin, his _precious_ patient, what Yoongi’s made but Namjoon is also fully aware that he can’t cross Yoongi. Yoongi has too much on him when he has little to nothing on Yoongi.  
  
So, Namjoon takes the Tupperware in silence. Yoongi smiles, because the bastard should have taken it without much fight in the first place, and promptly leaves.   
  
Yoongi does it a few times, every two or three weeks for about two months. Namjoon is stiff lipped every time Yoongi shows up, but he takes whatever Yoongi offers him to give to Jimin.  
  
“He’s starting to notice,” Namjoon says.   
  
“Let him,” Yoongi says right on back, “any comments?”  
  
“He liked the bread bowl stew a lot,” Ah, yes, Kim Yoonji, a combination of carrots, potatoes, squared bits of heart, a splash of worchester sauce, and red pepper paste for some kick.   
  
“Noted,”

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yoongi spots him.   
_The ex_. 

  
The ex found Jimin but keeps at a distance. And he better.   
  
Then, the day after Yoongi catches the ex gazing up from the street to the window that led to Jimin's apartment, another victim appears on his autopsy table.   
  
The victim, as Yoongi finds out, is a little different. Different because he looks even more like Jimin then any of the three previous bodies Yoongi has examined, but the cops also let out, “but this one’s not a prostitute,” into the air with hints of frustration, frustration because the pattern has changed, and unpredictability of any sort with a serial killer is not good.  
  
Yoongi keeps an eye out, but doesn’t stress. The method is the same, strangulation from behind and mutilation after death. But, even then, the ex gets closer and closer and as he does, Yoongi’s work table is occupied more often with his mangled victims.   
  
Now, the background of the victims are of no matter. It seems like every person who looks like Jimin in the city will end up on a cold metal table and a little fire in Yoongi’s stomach burns brighter every time he cuts them open.   
  
Then, the method changes. The method _fucking_ changes, the ex starts leaving notes for Jimin and Jimin is now seeing Namjoon twice a week or immediately after he receives a new note. The Jimin decoys show more signs of struggle and the marks of strangulation have vanished. Evidence shows that the victims are conscious while the mutilation occurs, though it's doubtful any of them live through the entire process. Yoongi, and probably the less stupid investigators know; either the ex is going to run out of look-a-likes or the thrill of torturing and killing decoys will lose its flavour and he’ll go for the real thing.   
  
One day, after a particularly long shift (a five car pile-up with a handful of casualties), Yoongi purposely rolls through Jimin’s neighbourhood in his car. He searches for the window attached to Jimin’s apartment and sees the light is off. It’s not that late, but Jimin is usually home by that time to make a late (and mediocre) dinner for himself. Yoongi parks his car across from the apartment building and looks to the apartment’s entrance. Nothing’s out of place or damaged but that doesn’t leave Yoongi very satisfied.   
  
He walks up to the entrance and waits a short while before someone exits the apartment building and he slips through the open door. He calls for the elevator, luckily empty when it arrives, and presses the appropriate floor number for Jimin’s apartment. Yoongi rolls his shoulders and loosens his black tie before grabbing a clean pair of surgical blue gloves from his work bag. A ding and Yoongi leaves the elevator.   
  
The apartment door is closed, but Yoongi can see the lock has been picked with various scratches around the key hole. Yoongi looks over his left and right shoulder for witnesses before cracking his neck side to side and twisting the knob of the door. Immediately to the left of Yoongi is an officer meant to babysit and protect Jimin… but if the blood pouring out his neck was anything to go by, he was a waste of tax payers’ dollars.   
  
There’s a muffling coming from deeper in the apartment and Yoongi approaches it. He finds himself in front of what he presumes to be Jimin’s bedroom door. He opens that with little ceremony and the scene before him is not unexpected.  
  
Jimin is tied to his bed, a sock stuffed down his throat and, interestingly enough, only two knives sticking out of him, one in his upper thigh and another in the side of his abdomen. They’re nothing of major consequence, though probably painful. The ex immediately turns and looks startled at the newest addition to the room but he snaps into action. Yoongi, however, is ten steps ahead of him, because with a quick stab to the neck with a prepared syringe, Yoongi has a potent muscle relaxant now flowing directly in the ex’s blood stream. A minute of struggles and then the ex is down.   
  
Yoongi steps over the ex’s limp body and sits on the bed next to a quivering Jimin, who is looking even more scared and hopeless.   
  
“Now, listen, and you listen well,” Yoongi hisses and leers closer to Jimin, “you don’t say a fucking word about me, or I will come after you,” and then he pushes the knife in Jimin’s thigh deeper for a dramatic flair. Jimin moans back through his sock gag in response, chest heaving and glittering with sweat induced from pain. It’s a good look on him.   
  
“The story is you managed to nick him with something after he stabbed your thigh, it spooked him enough to stab you in the side and run for it, am I fucking clear, Park Jimin?”  Jimin nods so quickly, like the people pleaser he is.   
  
Yoongi unties Jimin’s restraints, removes the sock and stands up to look for Jimin’s phone. Once found Yoongi tosses so it lands besides Jimin’s head. Jimin hasn’t moved an inch, which is probably wise due to his injuries.   
  
“W-who are you?” Jimin whispers out wetly through his snot and tears, “why are you here?”  
  
Yoongi grabs one of the ex’s ankles off the floor and only smirks as a response to Jimin. He drags the body out of the bedroom and cleans what he can of the residue blood from the ex’s clothes. Once done, he throws a limp arm around his shoulders and grips tightly onto the ex’s waist. He drags the comatose body down the apartment stairs, successfully avoiding the wandering eyes of neighbours. For good measure, Yoongi mumbles loudly about his stupid black-out drunk of a friend, and how he’s tired of doing this every week until he makes it to his car.

The ex reaches consciousness just after Yoongi has him tightly strapped to his own private metal table. Unfortunately for the ex, and fortunately for Yoongi, that also means it’s time to vent out some pent up frustration.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Whispers are all around at Yoongi’s workplace about Jimin. How Angel Prime (his code name because Jimin’s actual name can’t be released to the public for privacy reasons) bravely fought back against his crazy serial killer of an ex and survived two stab wounds. He’s quietly recovering in a hospital, protected by more competent guards (their choice of words, not Yoongi’s) because everyone thinks the ex is still on the loose. Little do they know Yoongi and him are having a grand old time in the basement of warehouse located in the middle of nowhere.

Yoongi keeps his distance from Jimin until Jimin gets discharged from the hospital. Yoongi then can’t help but crash his first out-of-hospital session with Namjoon.   
  
“Yo,” Yoongi says after appearing behind the secret door Namjoon personally installed for emergency escape purposes. Namjoon looks notably displeased and Jimin looks petrified.   
  
“N-no, you’re, you're—” Jimin stutters while sinking further back and away from Yoongi within his seat.   
  
“The guy who will end your life as easily as I saved it if you don’t behave, you got me?” Yoongi points a finger like he’s scolding a child. He only takes a few steps forward and he’s casting a shadow over Jimin’s shivering form, “I have something for you,” and Yoongi reveals a Tupperware container from behind his back, “ta-da!”   
  
Jimin immediately freezes once he comprehends what’s in Yoongi’s hands and what it means. Jimin then turns to Namjoon with eyes mixed with horror and betrayal. Namjoon doesn’t acknowledge Jimin though because his stare is too busy throwing daggers in Yoongi’s direction.   
  
“Could this not have waited?” Namjoon hisses, “we’re in the middle of a session, Yoongi,”

“And you were able to see him in the hospital just fine, so you both can delay the session for a few minutes,” Yoongi barks right back, still facing Jimin with the Tupperware held out toward him.  
  
Namjoon starts to say something most likely unessential when Jimin pipes up, “If I take it, will you leave?” Yoongi considers the offer and nods along in agreement. Jimin reaches forward in his seat but his finger tips are just short of grabbing the container. Yoongi feels a smirk slide onto his lips when Jimin realizes he’ll have to get closer to Yoongi to get it, so on shaky legs, Jimin stands up. He limps a step forward, probably being mindful of the stab wound in his thigh, and rips the Tupperware out of Yoongi’s grasp quickly. He hurriedly sits back down, his knuckles white while holding the container in his lap. His eyes are back on the floor and Yoongi is pretty sure they’re going to stay there, much to his distaste.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Yoongi drawls, “he’s being taken care of properly,”     
  
Jimin then audibly chokes on the air he breathes and his eyes start to well up.   
  
“Thank you Yoongi, and if that is all, do see yourself out,” Namjoon’s voice cuts in sharply. Yoongi raises an eyebrow in his direction and shrugs his shoulder. Yoongi then turns around and leaves out the same secret entrance he arrived in. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yoongi is not “meticulous” with Jimin’s ex. His body has a generally unappetizing physique and it’s riddled with signs of severe drug abuse, which may explain the erratic behaviour. Yoongi isn’t in the business of poisoning himself with sub-par meats, so he’s mostly preparing Jimin’s ex for…well, Yoongi’s not sure if he was honest with himself. Though he does admit the ex’s suffering and anguish with every mutilation Yoongi bestows him with is quite gratifying.  
  
He chops off, de-bones and boils a finger a day.  He seasons it with salt and pepper, and force feeds it to Jimin’s ex first thing in the morning. It’s tedious, to have to drive to the warehouse before work for this routine, but the sobs of the ex are pleasant enough for Yoongi to continue on.  
  
After work, he graces the ex with his presence once more. Yoongi greets him by slicing off a thin layer of flesh and muscle wherever he can and prepares it on a grill with random spices he has an excess of (because he rather not waste the good spices).  Sometimes a stab to the ex’s hand entices him to open his mouth long enough for Yoongi to stuff in whatever he had prepared.  
  
Yoongi chooses not to say anything in response to the man’s curses, though Yoongi does usually chit chat with ( _at_ ) his victims to pass the time. He has a confident feeling that the least amount of acknowledgment from Yoongi will just mess the guy up that much more.     
  
On the tenth day, and the last finger, Yoongi decides he’s due to check up on Jimin. So, thanks to Namjoon keeping Jimin’s cell phone number in his file, Yoongi texts Jimin to meet him at a café.  
  
“Who is this?” Jimin says as soon as Yoongi picks up his call, “How did you get this number?”  
  
“Hey, is that how you’re going to speak to your saviour?” Yoongi snorts, “You got some nerve, kid.”  
  
Jimin is silent on the other end for a few seconds before, “What do you want?”  
  
“Coffee, meet me at 6 at Café Alice, oh, and lose whatever guard you got while you’re at it,” and Yoongi hangs up. Yoongi isn’t accustomed to socializing much, but that’s mostly because Yoongi hasn’t been interested. But, hey, he’s interested now and he’s going to give it a shot.   
  
Jimin, pretty little Jimin, shows up in a loose collarbone-bearing white t-shirt and puffy black head of hair, like he couldn’t scream “come and get me, stalkers” any louder.   
  
“Didn’t like the orange all that much anyway,” Yoongi says as soon as Jimin sits down. Jimin’s eyes search the café rapidly and offers nothing more than a nervous shrug to the shoulders. Jimin very obviously wants to be anywhere but there with Yoongi, but screw him, Yoongi is great company when he wants to be.   
  
“Did you come back from volunteering?” Yoongi asks after the server swings by and takes their order.   
  
Jimin scrunches his eyebrows together in confusion, “how did you know—“  
  
“I work in mysterious ways,” Yoongi sighs, “so, have those punks being giving you trouble about the leg?”  
  
Jimin is still has the Confused As Fuck™ look while answering, “Uh, no, the recreational director explained about the, um, situation. So, they only grumbled a little bit.”  
  
“That’s good. By the way, when’s that recital? I’ll see if I can swing by,” Yoongi says right when the server comes back with their drinks.   
  
“Oh, really?” Jimin’s eyes surprisingly brighten up to the point of glittering, “The boys would love that. Anything to get anybody in that audience, it’s June 1st at the Youth Rec, just down t-the— ” Jimin then comically deflates and his voice lowers to a whisper when he realized it’s Yoongi he’s talking to, “—road. Down this, um, road. It’s about a five minute walk,”   
  
There’s a crack, Yoongi sees it clearly and immediately grasps at it. He shoots out more questions about Jimin and his life until there aren’t any breaks or stutters in Jimin’s replies. Yoongi’s feeling pretty accomplished when Jimin hesitantly waves goodbye over his shoulder when they separate outside the café two hours later.   
  
The next morning, the ex looks like he’s some version of calm, like he’s ready to meet his fate. Yoongi was prepared to give it to him too, but that was before meeting Jimin. So, instead, Yoongi simply smiles down at the man when he slams a knife clean through a pinky toe. Boiled, seasoned and down the hatch it goes before Yoongi leaves for work. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yoongi usually has a victim every month or two, and he’s due for another. But, his table and urges are occupied by Jimin’s ex. It’s a routine he doesn’t want to break, but he finds himself doing it anyway. Luckily, he still has lots of leftovers to feed Jimin with. Yoongi gifts Jimin with quick dissolving tablets to knock his babysitters out with for the times Yoongi decides to visit. Jimin loses his guilty expression the third time around.   
  
“Why don’t you just cook here?” Jimin asks one day, moving a brussel sprout across his plate. Yoongi sips out of his wine glass, a favourite 2009 vintage, before answering.   
  
“Because your kitchen equipment is severely lacking. How do you expect me to make pork chops like these when you don’t even have a gas stove,”     
  
Pork chops, _right_.  
  
Jimin frowns and sips at his own wine with eyes averted. Jimin always has a meekness around Yoongi and rarely smiles Yoongi’s way, but that’s all right. Jimin treats Yoongi differently, which is special, and Yoongi doesn’t mind being special in Jimin’s eyes.   
  
“It's not like I can afford anything better,” Jimin mumbles, and sneaks a peak at Yoongi’s face quickly before looking back down to his plate. The question goes unasked, but Yoongi knows Jimin’s wondering how Yoongi can afford said kind of luxuries.   
  
“Eat up,” Yoongi whispers, “before it gets cold,”

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The ex on the table is amusingly plumper than when he first was put on Yoongi’s table. Yoongi is holding up a grilled ear he chopped off a few minutes prior, and it’s a little under cooked but Yoongi’s doesn’t actually give a fuck about the quality of food he feeds the ex.   
  
“He’s a pretty thing, isn’t he?” The ex says after eating the ear, “Pouty lips that suck cock like no other. Makes you wonder how he got to be so good,”  
  
Yoongi doesn’t say anything, because the ex talking about Jimin isn’t anything new. It’s an occasional mention mixed with twisted praise and scorn.  
  
“Have you tasted him yet?” The ex asks, a smile twisting and twitching, “I have, he’s delightful.”  
  
These words don’t bother Yoongi at all.  
  
“You won't be able to do what you’re doing now, you know?” The ex licks his dry lips before he starts snickering, “one bite and you’ll want to eat him whole,”  
  
Yoongi has a cooking torch in his hand before he can process anything, along with the smell of the ex’s burning cock filling his nostrils. The ex is screaming out in pain and in laughter. Yoongi directs the flame to the ex’s testicles, but that damned laughter is still ringing in the air. With a racing pulse and burning heat under his skin, Yoongi forcefully pinches the ex’s tongue with metal prongs and burns out his tongue. The laughter finally dies then. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Jimin doesn’t pick up his phone when Yoongi calls for the second day in a row. Yoongi is not supposed to be angry, but he’s feeling it nonetheless. Yoongi’s been more and more on edge with more days adding onto his killing hiatus.   
  
Yoongi gets into Jimin’s apartment just fine, which surprises the guard waiting inside. Yoongi approaches the guard quickly and trips him just as promptly. The guard lands on the floor face first, allowing Yoongi to straddle his back. While removing his silk tie, Yoongi is able to keep the guard’s arms pinned to the floor with his knees. He maneuvers the tie around the guard’s neck and pulls back tightly. The guard is chocking, wheezing and putting up a good fight but his struggles weaken with every passing second until the guard falls limp and breathless underneath Yoongi.  
  
Yoongi feels a little better. Not much.   
  
Jimin arrives thirty minutes later to Yoongi reading the newspaper at his kitchen table and a guard dead in the middle of the kitchen floor. Jimin gasps and rushes towards the body with a name on his lips. Jimin’s lips begin trembling when he feels for a pulse that doesn’t exist. He looks at Yoongi with a glare that’s strangely assertive and demanding for an explanation.   
  
“Why didn’t you pick up your phone?” Yoongi asks, folding up the newspaper and placing it flat on the table, “You didn’t even reply to my texts.”  
  
Jimin bites his bottom lip and squeezes his eyes shut tightly. He opens his eyes again to look directly to the newspaper, and with gritted teeth he replies, “Page 20,”  
  
Yoongi hadn’t gotten to that page yet, and when he does, irritation hits him. A stupid newspaper finally reports on his work and it only gets featured on the 20th fucking page?   
  
“And?” Yoongi asks, skimming through the poorly written words. Did they have an intern write the piece? For heaven’s sake.  
  
Tears fill and fall from Jimin’s eyes, along with anger Yoongi has never seen before, “Y-You kill innocent people and you, you—“ Jimin can’t bring himself to continue, but Yoongi isn’t having any of that.  
  
“And I, what? Spit it out,”   
  
“You’re sick, how could you just…” Jimin does spit out, knuckles whitening while gripping the guard’s long sleeve shirt.  
  
“How could I what, Jimin, do enlighten me.” Yoongi drawls out with his tell-tale irritation building. It’s not a good sign, because Yoongi did just kill a guy, so he shouldn’t be this close to being a loose cannon.  
  
“You kill, cook and eat people!” Jimin cries out, “what kind of human being are you to just, and you’ve, you’ve fed me them, haven’t you? I ate, I ate people. Innocent people, Yoongi.”

“Would it be any different if they were criminals then?” Yoongi asks with an eyebrow raised.   
  
Jimin’s own eyebrows come together in disbelief, “You, you really are—“  
  
Jimin begins to hyperventilate and then is in a full swing of a panic attack. Yoongi just stares on, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair while waiting for Jimin to finish writhing and panting. Once Jimin calms, Yoongi stands and approaches him. Jimin crawls back until he hits a wall, shaking his head and whimpering out his protests. Yoongi reaches out and forces Jimin to stand on his feet. His grip of Jimin’s bicep tightens just like his glare.   
  
“You’re going to come with me, and you’re going to come calmly, is that understood?”  
  
Jimin is still shaking his head, tear tracts starting anew. Yoongi pauses to take the sight in and frowns. He sighs before he starts softly hushing Jimin, one hand is still on Jimin’s bicep, but the other caresses the tears away and gently combs through Jimin’s hair.  
  
Jimin does leave with Yoongi and doesn’t make a peep the entire trip, even up until Yoongi pulls into the farmland warehouse location. Yoongi doesn’t need to say a word to get Jimin to follow him into the building.   
  
The ex sees Jimin before Jimin sees him. The loud groan that escapes the ex causes Jimin to jump about a foot in the air. Jimin immediately hides behind Yoongi, though his hands hover over Yoongi’s upper back, unable to bring himself to hold onto Yoongi for some semblance of comfort.     
  
“He’s not going to hurt you, or anyone, anymore,” Yoongi whispers over his shoulder, “so don’t be scared.”  
  
Jimin doesn’t reply and just stares at floor by Yoongi’s feet. But, Yoongi’s feet don’t stay there long. Yoongi heads over to where he hangs his vinyl apron and puts it on. Security goggles go on next, with a mask to cover his nose and mouth, along with the blue surgical gloves before Yoongi plugs in his favourite miniature saw. With his body fully covered, he turns the saw on and cuts right into the ex’s collarbone. A couple of minutes and the ex’s chest cavity is open, beating heart on full display.   
  
“Jimin, come over here,” Yoongi motions with his head, placing the saw down. Yoongi looks over his shoulder to see that Jimin hasn’t moved an inch but at least his gaze is toward Yoongi, “Come on, Jimin,” Yoongi attempts softly, “I won’t let him hurt you,”  
  
Jimin then takes hesitant steps towards Yoongi and ends up directly behind him. Yoongi easily supplied Jimin with his own pair of blue gloves and has Jimin reluctantly snap them on. Jimin rapidly glances up and gasps before looking back down to the gloves on his hands. The ex is pinning Jimin down with his gaze and Yoongi doesn’t like it. So, a clean scalpel is retrieved and thrust into one eye before moving onto the next. Blood spurts out as Yoongi stabs to the music of the ex’s cries. The blood forms streams down the ex's temples and through his hair until it hits the metal table.   
  
“I told you,” Yoongi turns to Jimin whose eyes are clenched shut, “he’s not going to hurt you anymore,” Yoongi reaches down and takes one of Jimin’s hand into one of his, “Now, relax, I’ll do all the work, you just have open your eyes and hold the scalpel steady for me,”   
  
Said scalpel is definitely not steady within Jimin’s grip but it’s okay. Yoongi isn’t concerned about clean cuts this time around. Yoongi brings Jimin’s hand over to aorta of the heart and the scalpel see-saws through it easily. Blood gushes and ropes of it hits Jimin’s and Yoongi’s forearms. Jimin reflexively huddles against Yoongi’s side, his free arm now tightly around Yoongi’s waist and forehead firmly pressed onto one of Yoongi’s shoulder blades.   
  
Yoongi continues to the pulmonary artery, the superior vena cava and so on. When Yoongi finishes, Jimin is observing the process over Yoongi’s shoulder and his grip has loosened. Yoongi removes the scalpel from Jimin’s hand and places it to the side. He takes hold of Jimin’s other hand and together, they remove the now still heart out of the body.   
  
“How does it feel?” Yoongi breaks the silence.   
  
Jimin stares at the heart in his hands, eyes faraway before meeting Yoongi’s gaze.  
  
“I don’t know,” Jimin replies, and it's an honest reply.   
  
Yoongi slowly removes his hands from under Jimin’s so it’s just Jimin holding onto the bloody heart. Jimin cradles it a little tighter, the deep crimson being stark against the blue of his gloves.   
  
“How does it _feel_ to kill your tormentor?” Yoongi tries again. This time Jimin remains silent, unable to be as honest as he just was, “do you know what this means now?” Yoongi inches closer and places a bloody gloved hand of his own against one of Jimin’s cheek.   
  
Jimin hasn’t looked away from Yoongi, but his teeth begin to nervously chew on his bottom lip until it bleeds.  
  
“Now, we’re in this together,” Yoongi whispers, “and _no one_ will ever hurt you again,”  
   
Jimin soothes the broken lip with a quick lick before he starts panting out quick and small puffs of airs. Jimin’s staring deeply and intently into Yoongi’s eyes like never before. His hands tighten and relax with the heart repeatedly, as if creating a pulse for it. Then, a breathy _o-okay_ is released into the air before Jimin bursts into tears.   
  
_Now, we’re in this together._

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> heyy, it's been a while. how do you all do? i always wanted to do a dark themed story and man, i went a little overboard...i think. i don't know, everyone's standards are a little different, amiright? im not 100% pleased with the ending, may come back and tweak as i do, because living the unbeta'd life is dangerous. anyways i will probably write a sequel to this, so keep an eye out for that in the future.  
> do feel free to leave a comment about how you liked it, or if you have suggestions for the sequel, i'm pretty open minded.  
> bye.<3  
> Ps: I have an [ask.fm](http://ask.fm/MauveTarte) account. Holla at me.


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